


Off Duty

by GoBeyondProblematic



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Glory Hole, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26320129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoBeyondProblematic/pseuds/GoBeyondProblematic
Summary: After months and months of hard work, Roy decides to treat himself. Things don't turn out as planned.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 129





	Off Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HellfireRedwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellfireRedwings/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift to my lovely fandom wife, Flame. Kitten, the last year wouldn't have been the same without you. I am so happy we met and I can't wait to see which depths of thirst we will reach together <3 <3 <3 
> 
> A big loud THANK YOU to Kitsune, who beta-ed this and made it readable for your satisfaction. 
> 
> I am new to the FMA Fandom, and I can only hope to do the hotness that is Royed justice. Please enjoy!

She knows.

Of course, she knows, Roy thinks as he makes his way through the dimly lit bar to the back where a dirty sign points the way to the bathrooms. She probably had him figured out the exact moment the thought first crossed his mind all those years ago. Neither of them ever acknowledged it, but Roy can feel her eyes on his back all the way through the crowd until the restroom door falls shut in his back.

He needs this. Between the approaching end of the world and his own ambition, torn between grief and sorrow and pure adrenaline, he has been longing for a second to breathe, for some sort of relief. 

If there’s one thing he can trust Madame Christmas with, it’s her absolute discretion. 

True to her standards, the restroom is run down, but reasonably clean. He can already see black boots lurking under the door on the left stall. There’s a reasonable chance it’s just one of the patrons relieving themself, but the back room at Madame Christmas’ establishment always held a certain reputation, even when Roy was still a child. So he might just get lucky tonight.

He steps into the stall, pulling the door shut behind him, and firmly ignoring the slight tickle of uneasiness in his gut. Once upon a time, quick sex came easy to him, but now it seems like a lifetime ago. Double-checking if the door really is locked, he opens the small hatch in the middle wall of the toilet stall.

Through the opening, he can see a part of the toilet seat in the other cabin, meaning the person next door is ready for him.

Roy’s clothes are specifically chosen for the occasion and, after a grace period of waiting to see if the other person wants to go first, he unceremoniously opens his fly, rearranges his underwear, and touches himself. His motions are more of an utilitarian gesture, searching exactly the physical stimuli that he knows will get the job done. After all, the main event starts only when he’s hard enough to present.

Pent up as he feels, it takes longer for him to quiet his mind, banish the thoughts of Madame Christmas and her girls, of work and political intrigue from his mind, than to actually get the job done. Another sign that he hasn’t taken a break in a long time - the thoughts feel sluggish, clinging to him with big lazy hands and trying to rope him back in. 

After all of his years of service, though, Roy knows how important it is to not give in. 

Leaning against the stall wall, he guides his now prominent erection through the small hole in the wall. Even though he has done this countless times in his youth, the thrill of doing something completely irrational, of making himself vulnerable, never really vanishes. 

It’s exactly what he likes about it.

This and the fact that he can simply _leave_ , there’s no need for small talk or the additional weight of the expectations a more regular arrangement would bring. Besides a few simple rules of etiquette, there is no need for communication at all. 

And tonight - tonight is a treat.

As soon as he is in position, he can feel the stranger’s warm breath on his skin. He seems to be eager, wasting no time before he gives his shaft a long, tentative lick from the base all the way up to the tip.

Roy bites his lip to suppress the groan threatening to tear free from his throat. Over time, the memory of human touch has faded in his mind, growing weaker and weaker until it was more of a concept than recollection. Now though, feeling the wetness of another man’s tongue mapping his cock, the slight texture of the muscle, the warmth, it all comes back to him and _yes_ , this is totally worth the pain it takes to enable this little escapade.

Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself against the wall some more. He allows his mind to wander, to wonder even, what the person on the other side might look like. In reality, it’s probably no one he would pick out himself, but in fantasy, none of that matters.

The image forms in his head. A silhouette, strong shoulders, and narrow hips. He’s a bit on the smaller side today, kneeling almost upright as he closes his lips around Roy’s cock. His mouth is so hot, so smooth, and the way he stretches around Roy is delicious. Slowly he sinks down, taking him inch by inch, giving himself time to explore. The calmness with which the other man sets to his task is enticing. Roy has always appreciated work that was done thoroughly and the stranger doesn’t do things by halves.

When he is sucked deeper and deeper into the other man’s throat, Roy has to physically stop himself from just mindlessly thrusting forward. It would be heavenly to just fuck into the tightness, do as he pleases and chase his own pleasure. However, it would also be ridiculously rude and possibly disgusting if he makes his unknown partner throw up. He gathers all of the self-discipline he has left and surrenders to the slow, unhurried pace the other man sets, braced against the hard wood of the stall. In his mind, there are long strands of hair falling into the stranger’s face. Roy would love to touch them, hold onto them, but they get brushed back with determined motions as to not distract the other from his task. 

As if he sensed Roy’s thoughts, the mouth descending on him stops, and there’s a short pause while Roy figures out why that is, but before he can make a questioning noise or consider drawing back, the other man knocks against the wooden wall, two loud blows in the otherwise silent bathroom. It’s an ambiguous gesture, meaning either “lay off” or “more”, and the only indicator that the stranger isn’t in dire need of a break is the fact that he hasn’t moved to pull back yet.

In light of these options, Roy chooses the one most convenient for him and thrusts forward. The wooden edges of the hole make it difficult to navigate, but it’s worth it. Breaching the ring of lips, sinking deeper, feeling the other man’s throat contract around him is a glorious feeling and he basks in it as he retreats only to push forward again. His mouth is addictive and he feels himself spiraling fast. His hips scrape against the wood as he picks up speed, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t even notice it except as an afterthought. When the stranger lets out a satisfied hum, the vibrations send shivers down his spine and, this time, he can’t hold back the sound he makes. 

The world falls away. Forgetting about the bar, the bathroom, the muffled noise outside, he is thrown back into sensation with only his imagination as company. He wishes there was something to hold onto, almost sees himself burying his hands in light long hair, wrapping his fingers around a ponytail and pulling it in rhythm with the movements of his hips. Amber eyes are staring up at him, unwavering as if to dare him to go even harder. Roy complies.

He is close, he can feel it. In another world, he’d draw this out, maximize his own enjoyment, but, here and now, he is too pent up and way too enticed by his own private fantasy. With single-minded focus and all on its own, his body moves even faster, thinking about seeing the same eyes glazed with tears, yet still defiant. He’s hot all over. Everything is warm and tight. Pleasure coils in his gut, descending in a delicious pull. All he needs to do is surrender to the feeling, to let himself get swept away and he’s about to, takes in a deep breath and-

The door to the bathroom opens with a bang.

“Ed! What the hell is taking you so long? We were supposed to meet Al twenty minutes ago!” 

Several things happen at once: First, the mouth on Roy’s cock vanishes, as if the man has burned himself. Then, the woman barging into the men’s washroom shakes the door to his stall, only to immediately move on when it’s locked.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” a voice from the other stall yells, followed by a muffled thump that sounds suspiciously like a fist hitting the wood. It’s very familiar. In fact, Roy has listened to it a lot in the last few years, most of the time in eerily similar stages of agitation. Though there’s a coarseness to it that is _definitely_ new.

Reacting with notable delay, Roy steps back from the hole. Now that his thoughts are catching up to the situation, he’s able to identify the woman still ranting while there’s the treacherous rustle of clothes being straightened next door. Then, only seconds after they were disturbed at the most inconvenient of times, the lock turns and steps lead out of the small cabin. 

“You can’t barge in here like a damn fury-” Roy can make out before the sentence dissolves into a colorful array of curses that only ends when the bathroom door is forcefully shut behind both his partner and the intruder.

Roy leans back against the stall door. Between his legs, his cock is still hard and pulsing, as if the last few moments never happened. Tentatively, he closes a fist around himself, pondering the merits of getting himself off for pure pressure relief. But as soon as he touches himself, the arousal comes back with full force. His mind fills in the details that were missing from his daydream earlier, metal fingers and a red coat, the cheeks still slightly round from youth. A part of him doesn’t want to believe it’s him, of all people he could be thinking of right now, it has to be Edward Elric with his big mouth and clever tongue. Yet, he can still feel his heat and how good it was to move in him.

It’s what finally pushes him over the edge. He had fucked Fullmetal’s mouth, hard and with abandon and he, of all people, had _wanted it_. Was here, waiting for it to happen, ready suck off a random stranger like a slut because he needed it so badly.

His orgasm punches the air right out of his lungs. He spills over his fist, the seams of his pants and shirt, panting hard and still not getting enough air. For a precious few moments, he feels weightless, unable to see or hear, just existing in the haze of longing and satisfaction. Then, reality comes crashing down when he realizes that he wanted Fullmetal too. 

Dazed, he wipes away the worst stains with toilet paper before he steps out to the sinks to wash. Of all the things he expected to find tonight, this was not one of them and, uncharacteristically, he can’t find a way to make it work in his mind. Fullmetal. Of all the people Roy could be infatuated with, of course, it would be him.

Because, if there’s one thing that Roy has learned since he began his career all those years ago, it’s that things are never easy.

He needs a drink.

When he makes his way out of the bathroom, there is a commotion at the entrance. All he can make out from where he stands is a flurry of black and red, and lots of blonde hair. But then, the confusion lifts and Fullmetal turns around, already halfway out the door, being pulled along by his friend Winry.

Surprise flashes over Fullmetal’s face, but it doesn’t last long. In the blink of an eye, it is replaced by a knowing smile, one that Roy would recognize on almost anyone. It’s conspiratorial, the kind that whispers about shared secrets and assures silence. Under different circumstances, it would be reassuring, but seeing it on Fullmetal’s face just deepens his agitations.

And then he winks.

A barely visible gesture, so quickly it might have been just a trick of the light if it wasn’t for the fact that Roy knows exactly who he is dealing with. He’s under no illusions that it’s a promise, that he’ll never live this night down as long as Fullmetal wanders Amestris. Before Roy can react, he is gone, leaving the room full of people and still strangely empty.

He still feels dizzy, but more relaxed than he has in months. Possibly years. As he makes his way through the chaos of the bar, he thinks of Edward Elric’s winking face and wonders what will await him in the morning. With genuine disapproval, he notices the flutter of anticipation in his gut, the way his skin grows warmer just at the thought of him.

Behind the counter, Madame Christmas smiles at him knowingly. Of course, she does.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please drop me a line, an emoji or just smash some keys and find me on twitter ([@sluttymic](https://twitter.com/sluttymic)) for continued screaming about hot anime people.


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